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Prologue

Fifteen Years Earlier

Age Ten

Kieran

My shter as I drive the head into the da it harder to hold on to the tool causing it to tire runt presses from my chest as I try to shake the soil loose and toss the cruround which is noell above ht, I barely see hts blinding ht My eyes shift to the bloody sheets wrapped around what looks like a body lying on the ground next to the grave I’

“Who is this guy anyway?” I ask out of breath I’uy is dead, it’s because he’s a bad guy I know this guy being dead, he brought it on himself My father always says, “I only hurt those that kar of the Reaper” Besides, fear isn’t a part of the life I’m built to lead

Dad gives ar from in between his lips His suit without a wrinkle, and shoes without a speck of dirt, he is put together like this is another day at the office I always look anywhere but in his eyes, because when I see those dark brown irises, itreerous and

“Why’s it gotta be a guy,the cherry lit end of this cigar atYeah?”

Shakingindirt acrossthe hard earth free of its dirt, butto the body It doesn’t look like it has boobs like a woman would, it has to be a man I don’t dare ask a second ti, he would have No, I know enough to know it’s time to keep my head down and do the task at hand

A foot steps onto the body, rolling it out of ht

Catchingat the dead person, in’!”

I do as I’m told, but I can’t help but notice hier seat hunched over, puke caking the front of his new shirt ht His dark hair is matted doith sweat, and his face is pale I want to climb out of the hole and check on him, but that would really piss our pops off Dad had hi ht of blood and puked all over himself Dad ripped hi at him in Italian

The sht of the body doesn’t bother me, I don’t knohy it doesn’t

It just doesn’t

I’ The questions swirl in my mind rather than fear about the lifeless body in front of me I want to knoho it is I want to pull back the sheet and see if he was shot or beat to death Is he all bloody? Into earn his death

That’s the difference between uess I don’t He’ll see a bird fall from a nest in Central Park and take it houed if I could cli the bird to fend for itself If it’s out of the nest theor sick It’s the circle of life If it can’t survive now, it won’t ever

“That’s enough, Kieran, clihts

I drop the shovel, out of breath “Thank God,” Ion between er I rub at it

“Get the darab the tool and toss it out of the grave and then using both hands, I push up and grab onto the earth that is still intact to cli inside my shoes, I finally make it out